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It's Like I've Been Awakened
IC Time on Earth: Tue Jul 08 14:50:24 2035 Repair Facility – Protectobase Not as nice as the Autobot City repair bay, but this facility was installed just so First Aid feels at home in the new Protectobot base. A multitude of beds are laid out in no orderly fashion, just waiting for a patient to relax on them. Several cabinets line the far wall with tools, parts, and everything else needed in Cybertronian repair. However unlike Autobot City, there are no gumbies here to assist. Here, everything has to be done by self power, like the old fashioned Autobot days. If you gander above, you'd notice that some sky-lights shine some natural light in during the daytime. To the left is a door that leads to the observation room. To the right leads the brig, and the faint hum of Mozart's clarinet concerto in A major coming from the Protectobot's Brig. Contents: Halo Obvious exits: Elevator Doors leads to Elevator. North leads to Observation Room. South leads to Brig. [ Full Systems Check - Blades ] End Cou Ener Acc Str Frp Agl Vel Arm ------------------------------------- 100% ## ## ## Mode 1 - Robot . ## ## ## ## Size 5 . ## ## ## ## Defense: NEUTRAL (-10) . ## ## ## ## ## ## Cou/End: 2 (Over Limit!) . ## ## ## ## ## ## 50% ## ## ## ## ## ## . ## ## ## ## ## ## . ## ## ## ## ## ## . ## ## ## ## ## ## ## 10% ## ## ## ## ## ## ## ------------------------------------- CUR: -1 96 02 95 57 58 70 43 13 MAX: 59 96 50 95 79 73 78 43 50 ------------------------------------------ Abilities: Attacks: Rotor Blade 5, Photon Pistol 4 Combat Flags: SCARED UNCON Blades is currently a heaping pile of parts, because he went and had his head stoved in again. He keeps doing that. It has led the Autobot logistics expert, Beancounter, to write a rather stern memo to whoever is the poor soul who repairs blades: To Whom It May Concern: To put it bluntly, Blades is an idiot and keeps getting himself blown up. I am authorizing whoever repairs him to strip all the armour off his helicopter mode and replace it with robot-grade armour. The cost of this upgrade is to be deducted from Blades's salary. I have calculated that even a 10% reduction in the rate of Blades blowing up will net the Autobots a significant cost savings. There is a different memo from the Autobot medic Downcast: Blades requested the install of some WDU-4/A Hydra 70 Rockets that he purchased with Amber Mackenzie's help and some mounting brackets that Blades seems to have cut off a living robot? They have dried energon them. And jagged edges. Unfortunately, however, his helicopter mode is much too fragile to properly support those weapons. Taken together, however replating Blades's helicopter mode with robot grade armour will stiffen him up enough to allow the mounting of those brackets and rockets, which are tidily stored away in a storage locker here. Halo stares thoughtfully at the pile of Blades parts, and then back at the memos holographically displayed to her left. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Hrm. "Well..." She addresses Blades' head and inner chasis, which she has plugged into a jury rigged recharge slab. "At the very least, you're keeping my job interesting." Plugged in to recharge, Blades's optics flicker like a poorly tuned television before finally settling to a steady if dim level. He looks up and down. Then Blades says, "Huh." "Dismembered again? I gotta stop going to pieces..." Halo gives Blades a slight smile as she begins rummaging through his pile of body parts. "Well, we both know the odds of that ever happening... But, at the very least, we can make it mildly more difficult for you to come apart." She waves a hand at the holo-memos, which are replaced: one of Blades' robot mode transforming into a copter and then filling with notations about his armor. The other, a blueprint of the install for his new weapons system, which looks curiously like the 'how to transform' manuals that come with Transformers toys. She holds up one of the dead Con brackets. "And while I appreciate you bringing your own supplies, I'd rather not work second hand. Unless these have some sentinmental value?" Blades doesn't have a chance to see the memos before they go. His vision is blurry, at best, anyway. Focusing on the floaty schematics gives him something of a headache. Then Blades protests, "I cut /those/ off a Mayhem! Do you know how hard it is even to find those guys, when they don't want to be found?" That Decepticon isn't dead, though. Potentially angry! Halo makes an 'ok we'll do it your way but I'm judging you' face, and nods. "Second hand it is, then. I've made some modifications so not to throw your flight mode off balance, as well as maintaining maximum scramble capacity when you form Defensor with your fellow Protectobots." As she talks she reassembles his body, with the help of a few assistants whom she snaps at occasionally. "I also took a look at your knife set in hopes of surprising you with some improvements, but I must say" She sounds quite impressed. "Wonderful edged weapons, Blades. Perfectly balanced. Small, deadly works of art. They even match your color scheme." Blades sort of expects Halo to judge him and find him wanting. Deep down, he expects that of everyone. Deep down, he knows that he isn't what an Autobot should be... However, before Blades can get too thoughtful, Halo distracts him by talking about knives. He smiles grimly. "Of course they are. They're /mine/. I wouldn't carry anything else, but..." A memory nags at him, fuzzy. Halo leaves it at that and gets to work, stepping back every now and then to get a 'big picture' view of Blades' rebuild. Finally, after a few aft chewings to her interns, she walks to a console near Blades' head. "This will mostly likely be an odd thing to watch." She taps a button, and Blades' body transforms into helicopter mode. Shooting a look at one of the interns, she hrms. "Plate levels?" "75% cyberalloys and holding, ma'am." She nods, resting her chin on her fist for a moment. Finally: "Activate plasma bath." Several large turrets transform out of the floors and unleash Hot Spot levels of fireball hell on the copter. When the smoke clears, it's unscathed. Halo makes a small ticking/chirping sound, obviously pleased with herself. The Blades-and-inner-chassis watches as his body is... transformed... without him there. He sticks out his tongue, obviously nauseated. Then she tries to set it on fire. Stunned speechless for a long while, Blades finally manages to say, "Ma'am, I am so glad you're not a Decepticon, you don't even know." He'd have to kill her if she was! And hide the body where no one could find it. A Decepticon would have found some way to hook up his pain sensors via wifi, though, so he could feel that fireball all over his disembodied body. Halo rolls her optics. "I'm glad I'm not a Decepticon either, Blades. Purple should be an accent, not a way of life." Blades can take that comment as he will. She lifts his head gently as her assistants finish installing the rocket brackets under his wings. "I hope your out of body experience was pleasant...She crouches by the copter, and lies on her back, resting Blades head on her chest as she pulls herself by the rungs under the copter. Weirdly enough, it's easier to reattach him in this mode. "And I expect a full report on these rockets. I did my own field testing, of course, but there's nothing quite like the real thing...as I'm sure you're aware." She lifts his head and spark chasis gently, installing and locking where he needs to be installed and locked, giving him a wink before she seals the vehicle. Back on her feel, she knocks on his wing. "Let's see how you're feeling." Some people are probably jealous of Blades's head resting on that particular part of Halo's anatomy. Alas, it is wasted on Blades, completely wasted. "I never knew my undercarriage looked like this!" Learn something every day. And then he's back in his body, and it's something of a head rush, weird and jarring. His helicopter blades flicker and flutter. "Wh-whoa-a! Kinda... dizzy..." Halo steadies Blades by his shoulders when he transforms. "Easy. Optics on mine. Your systems are recalibrating. Just focus on me." Blades is seeing two Halos, at the moment, his optics dim and diffuse. He looks from Halo to the other. Then Blades blurts, "I feel heavier!" Well, he does, even if that isn't the most eloquent way to put it. Halo nods, smiling a bit at Blades 'is this real life?' moment. "A bit, yes. The new alloy in your armor does add a small amount of weight, though it shouldn't have an adverse effect on your movement or flight." "If you say so," Blades says, squinting. Then something strikes him, and he admits, "...thanks." That is difficult for him, but he supposes he should. His vision slowly starts to clear. What was he trying to remember? Halo lets go, satisfied that Blades is coming around. She taps a datapad, and begins typing a holomemo on a holoword processor. Holoholoholo. "Anything else I can assist with, Blades? Perhaps finding a less chemically damaged motorcycle to team with?" Blades's wits slowly return to him even as his vision sorts itself out. then he snaps his fingers and asks, "Hey. Hey, you do weapons, right? Like... pretty ones and slag? Pretty deadly ones?" He's sort of rambling, not all there yet. "Could you make some glowing ice knives for Air Raid? Like... all MMO-y?" Halo cocks her head, listening to the request. "I'm not entirely sure what MMO-y means, but I've been looking for a melee application for my cryo tech prototypes. This just gives me an excuse to play. As for glowing?" She nods. "I can do glowing. I appreciate an Autobot who understands material flair for the dramatic." "Everything glows on MMOs. I think." Blades is staring up at the ceiling. "...wait, did I really just get you to slap pieces of a Decepticon in me?" Blades squirms around, trying to twist and look at his own back, though he isn't very successful. Halo harumphs. "I incorporated *elements* of the brackets. I'd never follow word for word instructions from a mech that was in your condition." It's like drunk college girls and tattoos. She taps a crate. "The rest of your trophy is in here. Go mount it on a wall or whatever it is that you do." Blades wobbles, unsteadily. Then his systems finally finish updating themselves. his vision clears. He stands steadily. Blades gives Halo a rakish grin, picks up the box, and declares, "I'm going to mail these pieces back to him, postage due." Blades wobbles, unsteadily. Then his systems finally finish updating themselves. His vision clears. He stands steadily. Blades gives Halo a rakish grin, picks up the box, and declares, "I'm going to mail these pieces back to him, postage due." Halo gives the Protectobot a salute. "Primus speed, sir. Think of me when you're exploding him, or whatever slang it is you use. Carry on."